Saturday, July 17, 2010

A First-Class Fuck.

Starting in a first class hotel probably helped, I think. I thought about that before and once during, and it felt, kind of mercenary to have that thought. Like the girl that goes out with the orthodontist's son because he will pick her up in Daddy's black Porsche 928.

But it isn't that. I'm not putting out because he is validating my worth by spending money. I am putting out because I met him, flirted with him, got to know him, wondered how he'd be sexually, fantasized about him sexually, and finally asked if he wouldn't mind fucking me. So it's about the sex.

But clean (600 thread count-ish?) sheets, a nice view of a beautiful, room service, (pretending we had nothing to hide just the Mr. and Mrs. made it seem true..we WERE a couple at least for then), really good triple distilled Irish Whiskey (not my usual drink but he explained that quality is key in enjoying such spirits..when in Rome..)all conspired to give this affair an air of legitimacy.

I had spun a tale for hubby the be-careful-what-you-wish-for cuckold of me being a hooker and all the filthy degrading things the client "made me" do. In fairness I explained to him how hot I got at playing the whore, how wet his insistent violations of every orifice made me. And thinking of it that way did make me incredibly horny. The husk in my voice telling him this tale of debauchery was genuine.

The reality was not nearly as athletically kinky, but just a leg-quiveringly erotic in it's own way.

I was dressed in a plausible I'm-in-town-on-business suit, with my planned kinky underwear on beneath. I thought check-in would feel slutty. I was sure CHEATER would be written all over my expression, and his. He seemed practiced, and if my twinges of excited slutty guilt showed the very friendly, sharp girl at the counter registered nothing.

In the elevator on the way up, no bags but my small clutch, I teased, "You seemed pretty practiced at that."

"What handing over a corporate card, or the part where I asked for a room with a nice view?"

Punching him I said, "No the whole fuck a married woman in broad daylight in a fancy hotel practiced."

"I'm pretty sure you are not the first married woman to be fucked in this hotel, some even by their husband.. Why would you assume that she would have assumed that our rings don't signify fidelity to each other?"

Wow...a lot in that statement.

"Besides. I put Mr. and Mrs. Smith down on the register!"

"You DID NOT...by the way how do you get away with it as far as showing up on the card and so on?"

"Well I normally don't do this sort of thing here in town, but road trips are a thing of the past with my last promotion so there is a bit of risk this time. Since I am the one that approves expenses, I'll shift it to a guy that actually is in town tomorrow, I'll probably book him into this hotel to keep the billing simple..you should probably check out before he gets here though unless you have a thing for drug pushers in general.." (He works in sales for a pharmaceutical company. He makes that joke a lot. At first I wondered if that was a 'hey I can get you drugs' ploy but doesn't seem to be. Just what he does.

I'm starting to turn this into a novel complete with dialog, and didn't plan to get into the whole, then I said, then he put his hand, then he said...thing...

I was trying to capture the essence of the experience. I read I think in Jessica's Blog not exactly Haiku clearly prose...I don't know poetry styles well enough to describe it but she captured an experience (was it maybe a fantasy?) with a couple of words on each line the way you would in a Haiku. (It wasn't I counted the syllables......wow way off track here...)

For example I had the hooker me forced to her knees by a handful of hair before she got in the door. He led me by the hand to the bed, sat me there and then went and opened the drapes. I felt radiant and expectant with sunlight on my face.

His hand in my hair just adjusted the tilt of my head as he gave a long soulful, deep, wet kiss. That was followed my more kissing. Deep exploring getting to know you melding kisses. I hadn't made out like that since high school.

I couldn't picture how his first moves would be, how I would strip, or be undressed, how to pose to best accentuate my tits and minimize my belly.

None of that mattered, once the whole getting to know you through nonverbal oral communication started, mouths and tongues just went where they went and the brain fuzzily caught glimpses as I went along for the delicious ride.

His lips and tongue and gently grazing teeth found my nipple. I wasn't sure when or how I'd lost my cute snug button-up Liz Claiborne knit top, but I'm guessing it was a button at a time. His fingers? Mine? I don't know, but I remember being glad I had chosen the pretty bra that was folded down a bit under my ample right breast.

I blushed a bit when his roving hands found first the garter straps, stroked the tops of my stockings and then found my wet folds with no fabric as barrier. Going panty-less seemed kinky sexy when I got ready, and sort of silly when luxuriating like a grownup in a classy room.

He smiled and said, "What a sexy surprise!" which was perfect.

I mostly let him lead until as he was kissing down my belly with clear intentions, I thought about the sequence I had imagined and told him, "Wait.."

"Me first" I said and went after his belt. It was only then I realized that I looked like the victim of several bad hands in a game of strip poker and he had barely his shoes off. Puzzled I recalled my hands and his warm skin, realized I had reached under and into and somehow he'd lost the hold of his belt and the button on his pants...

I wriggled him out of his pants, and insisted on the socks. "You may NOT fuck me with your socks on!" Ever agreeable, he took them off in a mock strip tease and threw them at (as if out) the window. I laughed out loud as trite as that is these days.

I couldn't help notice that he wore the same brand (or at least the same stripe) shorts as Hubby and giggled realizing hubby had only the pair he was wearing along with the underwear I wasn't wearing that was in his suitcase...

Marcus (for that is Early Bird's name) asked what was funny. Despite having talked to Jim (my co-worker) about the whole panty thing, it seemed suddenly disloyal to set him up in that way. To encourage him to wear them, then giggle about it while cuckolding him. I mean I know that is how it's done and he might even find it arousing for all I know, but still it was a line, and I kept it to myself.

I lied a little and told Marcus I was thinking about texting hubby and telling him how my day was going. That wasn't a total lie. I had someone's blog where she did that sort of thing giving hubby updates from a date..(that particular cuck loved that. If I find the post I'll link it)

He said, "Well you have your hands kind of full you want to dictate and I'll type it in for you?"

I was groping his engorged cock with both hands through his jockeys. "No good. Can't dictate, my mouth is going to be busy." I grinned as I gently eased the waistband from being hung-up on the tip. It was a very nice cock as they go. Laying on his back it looks best I think. Standing it looks like a handle usually, (which is why men are so easily led by them) Heaven help then if the have to move about erect it looks awkward as hell.

Anyway I hear size descriptions and such in a lot of posts and I figure him for about the same size as hubby's. Hubby passes and sometimes surpasses the "dollar bill test" so maybe 6-7 inches? About "just right" for me. Much longer and I gotta watch positions. I remember this one skinny long distance runner I fucked a couple of times much to his apparent amazement. He actually hurt me once with my legs over his shoulders...I wondered at the time how much was too much and actually got out a folder I had in my book bag that had a ruler printed on the edge. Apparently 7 1/2 inches deep is where my cervix starts...well enough of the anatomy lesson...who brought that up?

He had thoughtfully shaved his balls..(Oh that sounds first class all graphic but how else do you describe it? Smooth pink testicles?) He was circumcised. It was kind of pretty. Kind of a nice mushroom shape to the little helmet. Soft point then flaring gently. Throbbing vein down the length, but that might have been my fault.

I took my time, not using any particular practiced or remembered technique. Just kissing and nuzzling and licking and engulfing and a little bobbing. He considerately warned me of what I already knew, that I was holding him on knife edge, suckling a little watch the smooth pink testicles tighten, ease off and back...I was really enjoying myself in its own right.

"You keep that up it's going to go off!"

"You promise?" with a real long especially lascivious slurp. "Just in case, is this re-loadable? I mean does your company stock those little blue pills?"

"As a matter of fact, I'm going to recommend the boys in R&D contact you about your lips, I think they might be the next thing, and our patent is getting close to that 'we gotta find a new drug mark!"

Flattery will get you an appreciative full-service finish, and I did, and he did. I thought about my 'new rule' and went in for a kiss. He was just as enthusiastic as he had been and actually said "Wow, thanks that was great!"

"Anytime." I said, and I think I mean that. We still had I figured more than a couple of hours before he had to be anywhere and hubby would be assuming I was at work still so I wasn't worried about "my turn." But he was.

He still had the uniquely male post-coital goofy look on his face as he tried to reposition me and him to return the favor...

"No rush, we have lots of time to get these re-filled," I said tickling those smooth pink....

He was actually still twitching and a little more trickled out onto his belly. I dipped fingertips in the small trail and brought them to my lips tenderly savoring. He visibly shuddered.

He seemingly distractedly was tracing fingers up and down my slit, and it took not much at all to get me parted and a couple of fingers in and exploring. He was more thorough than my last gyno exam and gently found ALL the right spots. It helps that I was soaked.

I wasn't sure exactly how or when as I drifted towards bliss but at some point his fingers were joined by a thumb on my clit and a probing tongue. He paid me back for the teasing and it was wonderful...right up to the edge and back and higher each time till I was just riding this crest..one long wave it felt like...part of it was technique, but looking down at his face and seeing not hubby was more of a guilty pleasure than I expected...at one point later he mentioned that I had his hair firmly in grip and was bucking up into his face. I din;t recall that..

"Good thing it wasn't a toupee!" he smiled.

When it came time for actual penetration, he had come up with a condom. I felt like an idiot..I had some in my purse, was just sure start to finish I would be safe, even wanted to try the whole roll it on with your mouth trick, but I hadn't even thought of one...I'm glad he did, and told him so. Oral is risky in and of itself but slightly less so than what was to come. I didn't like thinking about the harsh realities of risk in fucking a guy that admittedly fucks a lot of women.

We talked about it, and he said he does get tested regularly but I would be dumb to take him at his word. He says for him it is less risky he feels as he has less exposure. He says its risky but most of the women he has been with it is an anomaly for them, a fling they have with the traveling salesman only to bury their guilty secret in renewed marital bliss. He says he has a few he keeps in contact with and from time to time, well fucks.

Weirdly I felt a twinge of jealousy. About a man I was fucking behind my husbands back.

Speaking of, condom finally and a little awkwardly applied at some point he entered me, It was all part of the whole fluid coupling though so it isn't like fireworks went off at that moment and I thought make a note to describe later...it felt great and full filling and guilty and kinky and warm and human and well great.

I do remember at one point where he was really pounding into me with that great sound of bodies slapping together literally, and reaching a frenzy not so much, I think of that he was getting close or chasing an orgasm but I was getting vocal and he was picking up the pace and over and over again, like it was a race to the finish...I saw a single bead of sweat trickle down his nose and fall to my chest..It looked to me like one of those slow motion camera things where the water drop explodes or the glass breaks or something. And the whole time was like that my mind recording every detail at 1000 frames a second but only in little glimpses and snatches. I would get caught in a reverie and hold a frame while the room and events swirled by.

Midst all this I did send a couple of flirty texts to hubby which he later told me were very hot and extremely discomfiting in his seminar. I'll have to go back and see what I sent.

2 comments:

  1. Sounds like it was an excellent experience. It certainly made me hard. Have fun in Vegas this weekend!

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  2. yes, quiver a bit still when I allow my self the indulgence of thinking about it...I am going to be so glad to have this blog as a diary of sorts to refer back.

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